


The Way It Should Be

by laureltreedaphne



Category: The OC
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-05
Updated: 2014-11-05
Packaged: 2018-02-24 06:40:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2571857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laureltreedaphne/pseuds/laureltreedaphne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>By the time they turn fifteen, Marissa basically knows everything about Summer there is to know.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Way It Should Be

**Author's Note:**

> Migrating fic over from LiveJournal - this is from 2004.

By the time they turn fifteen, Marissa basically knows everything about Summer there is to know. She knows that Summer likes to watch infomercials at three in the morning, that she finds the actors' over-the-top voices soothing on the nights when everyone's expectations feel like too much and she can't sleep. She knows that once, Summer's father made her watch Jaws, and she was afraid to even go near the beach for a month afterwards. She knows that when they were younger, Summer sometimes yearned for blonde hair, and that she appreciates a grand romantic gesture, even though she'd never admit it. 

*

_June, 2002_

Smoking is definitely not as cool and easy as it seems on TV. For instance, Marissa didn't realize there would be all this extra smoke floating around in the air, getting in her eyes and making them water. And she definitely didn't realize that they would have to open all the windows and turn on a fan just to keep the smell from settling on her new comforter. Overall, Marissa doubts that she looks as suave and nonchalant as she wants to. 

Summer, however, seems to be doing fine, laying back on Marissa's bed and staring at the ceiling, occasionally flicking ash from the end of the cigarette into the empty Diet Pepsi can that's balanced on her stomach. Her too-short skirt is riding up over her thighs, so high that Marissa can see a little bit of the horrible neon-green bikini bottoms she's wearing underneath. 

Summer's been filling out the past year, developing curves and softness that Marissa will never have. When they're alone she complains about how fat she's getting, but Marissa envies her, especially since she's still stuck in drawstring pants and skirts that will barely stay up on her hips. 

Marissa closes her lips around the cigarette and tries to mimic Summer, drawing the smoke into her mouth and holding it there, then blowing it out carefully. Her new red lipstick stains the yellow paper of the filter.

Marissa loves the easy rebellion of smoking. She loves the way that it's forbidden, but not exactly dangerous, loves that it won't get her into any real trouble. 

"How did you learn to do that?" she asks, as Summer casually flicks at the cigarette with her thumb. In the quiet room, Marissa can hear the fizzle of the ash as it hits the little bit of liquid left in the can. 

"What, smoke? Holly, I guess. She told me that senior, you know, Josh Eakin or whatever his name was, the one with the motorcycle? She told me he taught her, but I'm pretty sure she learned by watching that guy on _The Valley_. I mean, it's not like there's much to learn anyway." Summer sits up too fast and nearly upsets her makeshift ashtray. "Coop," she laughs, "you're not doing it right. You aren't even inhaling."

The bed dips as Summer shifts and moves closer to her, filling Marissa's air with the scent of expensive suntan lotion. "Look, put the cigarette in your mouth and then take a really deep breath." She demonstrates, and Marissa tries to imitate her actions.

Almost instantly she's coughing so hard that she fears she'll never breath again. Her lungs feel like they're burning up from the inside out, and she can taste the involuntary tears that have run down her face, smearing her mascara. Summer's soft fingers land on her cheeks, brushing away the tears and steadying her as she continues to cough. She vaguely registers the fact that the cigarette is gone, put away someplace where it can't do any more damage. 

"Easy, Coop, easy," she says, warm breath brushing across Marissa's mouth. "It always sucks the first time you inhale."

Kissing Summer is sort of like smoking: rebellion, but not really, forbidden, but not dangerous. Her mouth tastes like nicotine, lipstick, and the sips of red wine they snuck in the kitchen earlier, and Marissa likes it, likes having all her vices combined like this. They've been laughing lately about the way guys have started to stare at Summer's mouth, but now Marissa understands it, loves the feeling of Summer's soft, yielding lips against her own harsher mouth. Summer sighs into the kiss, and lets Marissa slide a hand up her leg so that the tips of her fingers brush the hem of her skirt. 

Marissa loves this, loves thinking about what her mom would do if she came upstairs and saw them right now. Probably send her to therapy, like she's always wanted to, or better yet send her away to live with her grandparents or something. She would hate finding out that Marissa wasn't exactly who she wanted her to be. 

When Summer pulls away, she smiles and licks her lips, then brushes her thumb across the corner of Marissa's eye, holding it up between them to show her the mascara residue. 

"Marissa, I thought we agreed we weren't going to do that anymore," she says, smoothing her skirt back into place. "You've got Luke, and I'm sure I'll have somebody soon, and we've gotten kind of old for things like that, you know?"

"Yeah, okay." Marissa's surprised at how harsh and raspy her voice sounds, probably from all the coughing. "I just thought...it's hard to break old habits, I guess." 

"Whatever, no harm done. It's not like I mind or anything. Best friends and everything, right?" Summer scoots off the bed and looks around for her shoes. "God, it really smells like smoke in here. We'd better Febreze it or something."

Marissa laughs. "Remember that time we found that stray cat and brought it into your room, and your stepmom went crazy and started yelling 'I smell an animal!'?" 

"Oh yeah! No amount of Febreze could have fixed that. I was grounded for like, a year." Summer holds out her hand to pull Marissa off the bed, grinning contagiously. "C'mon, Coop. We've got a whole summer ahead of us."

*

Once, during the whole thing with her dad, Ryan had told her how surprised he was that Summer hadn't abandoned her the minute her stock went down. How he had expected her to go back to Holly, refuse to be seen with her now that her dad was a criminal and she was hanging out with guys from Chino. Marissa hadn't bothered to explain how that would never happen, how Summer would claw another person's eyes out before she let them hurt her. How she had learned about loyalty from her mother, and about disloyalty from her father, and picked the more noble of the two. 

*

By the time they turn sixteen, they've started to keep secrets from each other, and Marissa hates that. Not that she wants to know about Seth Cohen's sex life or anything, but it just sucks, the fact that they don't talk to each other about anything real anymore. 

Summer's still fiercely protective of her, and Marissa still feels more comfortable with Summer than she does with anyone else. And if Summer notices that Marissa sometimes slips vodka into her orange juice, or if Marissa notices the way Summer's mouth tightens when she watches Seth and Anna together, neither or them say anything about it.

Marissa doesn't like to talk about the future, especially when she has no idea what's going to happen anymore. For instance, do colleges look favorably upon girls who OD in Tijuana and get themselves held hostage by teenage boys with guns? Does she need a scholarship, now that her dad's lost all their money? Should she even bother going anymore? Summer doesn't bring it up, even though her stepmother's already forcing her into college counseling meetings and SAT Prep classes.

Marissa knows that their friendship is rooted in the past, not in the future, even if Summer is making plans for them to go to college together and live in some cute, upscale apartment with a puppy. Her mother's warned her plenty of times, and Marissa's not naive, childhood friends rarely last beyond high school, and if they do then they never stay the same. After all, how can you ever grow up if you're still clinging to someone you loved when you were fourteen years old?

*

Summer shows up soon after Theresa leaves, with her eye makeup a bit smudged and her dress a bit wrinkled. 

"So, Seth's at the airport," she says, no pretense, throwing herself down onto the bed and laying her head in Marissa's lap. "I sent him there. After Anna. The girl who loves comic books and bands and probably got like, a 1600 on her SATs without even trying. And I sent him after her."

"Summer..." Marissa strokes her hair, loving the way it feels like nothing ever changed between them. "He loves you. Ryan told me once, about how all he heard from Seth the first few weeks after he moved in was stuff about you."

Summer sniffles against her leg. "Then why'd he pick Anna first?" 

"I don't know. Maybe he thought it'd be easier. Similar people aren't always right for each other, you know. Look at me and Oliver. We were almost identical, and look how well that turned out."

"You are not identical to Oliver, Coop," Summer sits up, pushing at her eyes with the heel of her hand. "Oliver was a psycho. You're not." Summer reaches for Marissa's hand and intertwines their fingers against the bedspread. "Whatever. If he dumps me for Anna, then that's that. Things will be back to the way they should be. No Luke, no Cohen, no Chino. Just you and me, Coop, ruling the school again. The way things should be."

Marissa looks down at their joined hands and grins. Maybe her mother's wrong, like she so often is. Maybe friendships don't have to change just because you do. "Yeah," she says, "the way things should be."


End file.
